Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-09-04
SAVED BY A KISS.
ILNA eFIFrIa AWAKENED IN HgR
COFFIN By HsR LOVERS CAREss.
Mrs. Purroy's Story Of Her Einetoeuth
Birthdays Indiscretion and How She
was Saved from the Grave.
[san Francisco ExamIner.l

eau l1utlrNy
"Elma Griffin, died April -, 1919:
aged nineteen years four months and
six days"
The words were engraved upon a sill
yer plate, but there was no coffin under
them. Mrs. Purroy, an elderly lady,
visiting friends living on Clinton ave.
nue., Alameda, but whose home is in
Brooklyn, n. Y, looked with an air Of
MINGLED pride and reverence upon the
carving, for her name was once Elma
On fin and the coffin was made to hold
her remains.
"On my nineteenth birthday" she
said, "my mother invited a party OF
acquaintances to our house to celebrate
the day. We lived some distance out
side OF Williamsburg, as it was tten,
and the ground was a little SOFT and
Doggy. One of my friends remem-
bered this as she was about TO start for
her hone with her brother, and she
laughingly congratulated me on being
housed already and having no occasion
to brave the swamp. was a wild
young girl in those days, and | de-
clared at once that | would so with
them and return alone. Everybody
present tried to dissuade me except the
girls brother. We started, and when
we reached my friends house | was
conscious that my feet were quite wet
and that disagreeable chill had crept
over me, but / declined an invitation
to so in, and went away at once. OF
course Robbie brother, | mean
came with me, and somehow | forgot
the cold and damp as l walked home.
81 think we must have talked for a
long time as we stood on my uncle's
doorstep, for suddenly Rob-my escort,
/ mean-said: 'Elma, your face is very
pale. Have Ikeptyou standing here too
Tonga He talked TO me for ten minutes
after that, aud then wished me good
night and left me. | rang the bell, and
when my mother opened the door told
her what | might have known an hour
sooner, If l had given it a thought,
that | was really i'll. She hurried
me to bed Immediately, and wien she
came 10 call me the following morning
she looked very anxious. BY noon |
was delrious, but l could hear the
doctor tell my mother L had typhoid
fever, and that he could not hold out
much hope for my recovery. | knew
that NY mother was weeping, but |
was always a selfish girl, and | could
only cry out: "Robert Robert
Where is Robert ?" and they told me,
hardly thinking that | heard them,
that Robert had been suddenly called
upon to start for California early that
morning, and had not even heard of
my illness. He sent a letter to me,
however, bus did not see it until many
weeks later.
Il grew rapidly worse, and gralu-
ally the knowledge OF all outward
things passed fIom me- / fancy that /
had o certain consciousness, but not Of
matters around me. | was in another
state OF being, in which the person act
ing and speaking always strangely
spcaking-wss myself, aud yet not my
self. Then came IN utter blank, from
which swoke, after near three weeks
Of oblivion, to see my mother and the
doctor standing by my bedside. The
doctor said the crisis was past and l
.hould probably recover, but | did not
feel any interest in what he was talking
about.
The quiet days OF convalescence
followed, and the doctor, seeing that |
was very weak, regarded me seriously,
and warned my mother that relapse
should be carefully guarded against.
! used at that time, too, to fall into
curious physical conditions that | sup
pose wcro frances, in which | knew all
that was going on around me, but from
which did not seem TO care to arouse
myself by moving or speaking. These
periods lasted longer and longer, but
they were not observed, and as they
were rather pleasant than otherwise l
said nothing about them.
Zone morning ! awoke from what
seemed to be = natural sleep, and lag
with my ewes closed listening to sounds
that could not at first interpret; but
slowly the knowledge came to me- that
nv mother was sobbing beside my bed.
J tried to ask her why she Wa, grieying,
but | could not move or speak. The
trance was upon me. ! was sensitive,
however, aud knew that | was lying
uron hard substance and not upon
tie comfortable mattress on my bed.
/ could feel, too, very little GOV. ring
over me. and despite my eyelids beinS
down the gloomy darkness OF the room
could be detected. where in the world
have they carried me to 2 thought.
Presently / heard my mothers
voice, and / knew that she was speak
ing to my cousin Mary, who was stay
ing in the house with US.
"'Poor Elma, she said, Il was so
sure that God would save her 10 me.
She struggled through that dreadful
illness only to die quietly in her sleep
at last. 1t is very hard, Mary
81 have often wondered since that |
did not really die of horror at that mo-
ment, as realized like q lightning
flash that they thought l was dead AMI
had put me into my coffin. They were
going to bury me | strove hard TO
speak, but the sphinx was not more
Cumb than /. tried to stir, but the
rock Of Gibraltar might have moved as
easily. Must my life be smothered
out in q grave for want Ola little speech
or action now?' | thought
So 1t is hard, indeed, dear aunt, re-
Piled Mary. but His will be done.
You must arouse yourself. The under
taker will close the coffin in a few min
utes. DO you think Robert-Mr Pur-
roy-will be here 2
"I hardly think so now, answered
my mother, YEARLY. Something must
have happened to delay him. He was
TO have arrived at home yesterday, but
he did not come, and [ postponed the
burial until to-day. He had not heard
OF her death. Poor fellow The news
will nearly kill bin. There is one per
son in the world, l think, who loved
roor Elma as dearly as did
"'Ohl RobeI,, Robert | cried,
with silent voice, come quickly. II
you look at me you will know 1 am not
dead.
Il heard a knock at the bedroom
door. Was it Robert? No, it vas
only the undertaken.
"'May close it now, ladies 2 he
asked, IN professionally mournful but
very business-like tones.
Nobody but myself knew that my
heart was beating, and even | hardly
knew it as the undertaken spoke. a
second aftervard il seemed to me that